


A Hundred Thousand Little Pieces

by artoni



Series: AHTLP [1]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Comic Book Science, Comic Book Violence, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, References to other canons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2671661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artoni/pseuds/artoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heavily inspired upon various BH6 concept art; in which the microbots no longer respond to a neurotransmitter but to a shift in brain chemistry. Features most of the BH6 cast (and some cameos), but focuses primarily on Callaghan. COMPLETE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dream

**Author's Note:**

> There are various bits of concept art out there featuring Yokai wearing the microbots, and gradual states of him practically _becoming_ the microbots. There are also concept arts of Yama-as-mob-boss, a seedy underbelly within San Fransokyo, and let's also not forget other Animated Disney Products in which superheroes exist.
> 
> (In case any of you were wondering where I got this from. I can't really explain Shin, though.)
> 
> As a general note, while this fic deals with some mental instability it is in no way attempting to blame actions thereupon, nor to make excuses/light of the actions taken. This is a matter of less than prime circumstances, less than stellar choices, and a mixture of other things that take a situation from one place, to another, to the next.
> 
> First chapter originally posted on Dreamwidth 11/19/14.

He stands tall at his sentencing, unapologetic but not unrepentant. Despite his lawyer's attempts, he has only worked so much with him when it came to mitigating his punishment; the verdict was never in question, only the specifics thereof, and while Robert can admit that he erred in parts he _cannot_ find it within him to admit he was fully in the wrong. His mental health is called in to question, the brief discussion of an insanity defence, but that in itself riles him up enough to ask if he needs a different lawyer.   
  
He _knows_ he's done wrong, vaguely, he's just unable to understand how it got to this. Worse; could it truly have been wrong when it achieved the impossible?   
  
'Guilty', they settle upon, with a number of facts brought in to play; acknowledgement that intent was _present_ but cannot excuse what _occurred_ and so on and so forth. It's a legal dance that Robert gets lost in and stops caring about halfway through, and the next thing he's really aware of is the weight of handcuffs on his wrists.   
  
He's led away, outside, and there are voices screaming at him and shouting but through it all he sees a single set of eyes that he can't help but meet- a familiar gaze, thought lost forever, but the _look_ in them is heartbreaking. They are betrayed and horrified and _sad_ , water welling up in them and he can't bear to see anything else there because those are emotions he never wanted to see there in the first place.   
  
And that he is the cause...   
  
Robert looks down, away, and allows himself to be further led.   
  
\---   
  
He gets used to prison - or perhaps prison gets used to him - rather quickly. There's a hierarchy here that almost reminds him of the military, in the worst ways; there's some pushing and shoving and he ends up with a rank by virtue of knowing how to defend himself, and defend himself _well_. He doesn't seek any sort of power, and short of keeping an eye out for trouble, keeps his head down and generally just tries to endure the given sentence.   
  
His cellmate is a younger man, in for grand theft auto; he reminds Robert of Gogo, in a way, if Gogo hadn't been able to find a better way to put her mind to use. They don't talk enough for Robert to learn whether he has a mind like her, and he's rather apathetic as to whether or not he does.   
  
Days turn to weeks, and life finds a routine. Aside from the occasional nightmare, it's a monotony broken by few things.   
  
\---   
  
The first visit is from Fred and Honey.   
  
He's surprised at the request, and strongly considers refusing it; in the end, he's handcuffed and led to the visiting hall, and there is a somewhat awkward set of 'hello's before Fred bursts in to storytime about his father and as strange as the subject is, it works far too well as an icebreaker. Robert finds himself smiling for the first time in a long while, and after Honey joins in, he even laughs a little.   
  
He manages to get her to talk about her current project, and manages a few sharp criticisms as well; she can't have as little an idea of where she's going with it as she's suggesting. She's a better student than that. He almost orders an update by the end of the week, and manages to halt himself just in time to make things awkward again.   
  
Still, some part of him feels lighter when they part ways. He asks them to take care of themselves; Fred goes for a hug that Honey follows up, and he allows himself to lean in to them a bit before they break and go their separate ways.   
  
That night, he suffers the worst headache he can remember in years, as though something's pulling his skull tighter while what's inside swells to twice its size; he only wraps his arms around his head to hide what few sounds escape him, and ignores the brief inquiry from his cellmate.   
  
\---   
  
The others visit him, in time. Sometimes in groups, sometimes one per. The support is...unexpected, but not unwelcome, even if he tries to change the subject any time his recent actions are touched upon. Doing so is perhaps not the best path to take, but he's already being hounded by the prison staff to join a therapy group. Avoiding it has become an acquired skill, and he puts it to use here, neatly skirting around subjects he's uncomfortable with to find ones that bring him joy.   
  
Their creations. Their studies. Their occasional _scuffles_ cause him some worry, especially when he sees them on TV, but the most he admits on them is through the encouragement to find a better way to confront the problem. To treat their obstacles as stepping stones, the same sort of mindset he encouraged while he was their professor.   
  
It feels good, to still be helping them. It's not enough and he dearly wishes he could do more, but he is in here and they are out there, and if this is the way it is this is the way it is. He is...growing increasingly disturbed by the thought of being released in to the open, and can, at this point, admit that imprisonment is the best thing for him at the moment. If only to himself.   
  
His dreams are filled with machines, constantly shifting and remaking themselves until he understands that each is hundred thousand machines in itself, and that lucidity only brings horrific satisfaction of watching the microbots carry out his darkest desires.   
  
\---   
  
His cellmate's name is Shin, and he is twenty-three years old. He's one of three brothers, with a younger sister as well; there's an unspoken understanding between them to not touch too much on each other's past and especially not the reason why there're here, but when he one day comes back in with a black eye, Robert studies him with a frown.   
  
And then teaches him how to fight.   
  
He's only done so much of it, even after his arrival here; he generally tries to avoid fighting, or outright antagonizing those who are in the mood for it. But he'll defend himself, and he teaches defence here, with Shin trading a few lessons in return when it comes to dirty combat, the sort you learn when you're constantly in a fights with and beside your siblings. A bit of gang knowledge, there, but Shin's alone here; Robert takes to watching his back, and using his own position to try and help.   
  
It's not that there's anarchy here; far from it. There's an order here, but it's a _prison_ order, and the guards can only do so much to retain it. The prison is largely run by the inmates and their creativity; some of it impresses even The Professor, as he's called. (Better that than Yokai, which the newspapers spoke of at first.) Robert may not understand it but he understands how to navigate it, and once he takes Shin under his proverbial wing he finds a few others attaching themselves to him.   
  
Fine. So he's a professor even in prison. He tries to point them in a more positive direction, but with him still running from his ghosts, there's only much he can do.   
  
The dreams go on. Not nightmares, not anymore, but unsettling on their own - and combined with the occasional pounding headache, when Shin next asks if he's all right, he admits that he may need something to help him sleep.   
  
Shin introduces him to pruno. It doesn't help.   
  
\---   
  
Hiro comes with Baymax, and were it not for the advance warning from his students, he would have immediately balked and denied such a visit. But it's Wasabi who finally has him agree, his earnestness finally piercing through Robert's sheer _stubbornness_ and accepting the need for closure. If not for him, then the boy.   
  
It goes...better than expected, but that doesn't say much.   
  
There's no robot trying to take his head off, at least, but it seems they've only been talking for a few minutes before the subject of Tadashi comes up. Robert manages to avoid referring to his death as a 'mistake' and can even admit that even if it was not _murder_ that he did set the fire - but it seems like there's only a few more words traded before he's clenching his fist and focused more on holding back his anger than helping the Hiro find anything.   
  
His head pounds. Baymax says something about abnormal waves, and he irritably barks at the robot, Tadashi's final work, to _shut up_. Things go from there, and it's possibly a good thing he _is_ still wearing handcuffs because he's on his feet, hands on the table to support him, eyes narrowed as he snarls something that he regrets saying even before the words leave his mouth.   
  
Hiro's eyes widen, then narrow, and he sneers something back- and it's a _very_ good thing the guard on duty is paying attention, because despite his all but model behavior before this he's consumed by the urge to _shut him up, shut both of them up, you don't know a damned thing about it_   
  
He's hauled away, and he _can't_ calm down, he's just along the current of his own rage and lashing out in blind fury until he exhausts himself in solitary.   
  
Tonight he dreams of being lost, alone, and _apart_. He wakes up in a cold sweat, and spends a long time like that, shivering.   
  
\---   
  
He does deny Abigail at first. Moreover; he ignores the request. He loses it, twice, and it breaks his heart every time the new one come but it's _Shin_ of all people who 'finds' it and ever-so-helpfully reminds him that someone wants to see him.   
  
It's only after a long look between them and the realization that Shin hasn't once had a visitation request that has him bow his head and take it back.   
  
This one goes _worse_ than expected.   
  
For a long time, neither of them say anything, there's only a silence in which Robert can barely look at her and Abigail keeps clearing her throat as if to say something but nothing ever comes.   
  
Finally, after what seems like _hours_ , Robert manages to ask where she's living now; he balls his hands in to loose fists when he finds out that Krei, of all people, is helping her get set back up in the world. It's a small mercy that she hasn't taken up employment with him, laughing a little that she's taking some time off work, but the thought that _he's_ responsible for her well-being is a little too toxic for its own good.   
  
They find another subject. Then another, bouncing from one to another as though trying to outrace the clock and Robert's own disgrace, but the clock ticks anyway. Suddenly it's all too soon that they have to go, and she's wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him tight.   
  
"I love you, Daddy."   
  
A part of him breaks at those words (the very last ones she ever said to him, before) but he manages to keep himself together until they part. Then the tears threaten and when he gets back to his cell he just puts his head and his hands and stops trying to hold them back. This isn't a matter of weakness; this is a grief too heavy to bear, the understanding that Abigail is finding a new life out there without him and he can't even _watch_ her have it, he can't be there, he _won't_ be there when she finds someone and starts a family and finds her own everything and he'll be here, rotting away for _years_ , he won't watch his students grow up except through a sparse few windows, he's _trapped_ in here and   
  
(Shin is here, he hears him come in, the young man has enough respect to go what he's going for and leave him alone after his hesitant 'Professor?' gets no response but a shake of the head)   
  
he _still_ can't see how he was wrong, he's hurt people but he got her back and Krei's still out there and his students are risking their lives and   
  
h҉i̡s͝ ͟head ͞h̡ur͘t̴s   
  
he's trembling, trying not to scream from the pounding of his head, no medication has helped no alcohol nor drug has helped and there are a hundred thousand little pieces of him screaming for release because _he does not want to be here_   
  
and he d̕҉͡ro͜wņs̶̨̢ in it   
  
howling in to his hands as he's carried away by his own pain and screaming for who knows how long and is ̢th҉is͏ w͝h҉a͏t ͏g͡oi͜nģ ̀mad̴ ͏f̴e͘e͜ĺs l̕ike because he has the outright _insane_ thought that if he screams loudly enough it will all stop   
  
but instead   
  
iţ al҉l   
  
s̸̢ta̧̨r҉͟t̷̨͠s̵ ҉o͏҉v͏e͜r̡͢͜   
  
Ä̢̧̛͔̫̼̦͉̆̍ͯ̕͡G̩͔͔̙̙̹͙̙̲͉̫̗̿̊̇ͥ̀͟͞A̧̛̜̬͕̪͍̻̲̤̯̻̠̤̪̓̑ͩͤ̏ͨ̉̑̅̑ͤ̀̾͋Ȉ̢̧͕̦̝͔͓̜̳̠̬̊͊ͨ́ͅN̸̶͔͖̰̟̜̣̳̩͔̳̺̞ͥ̏ͭ͑̃ͬ͑ͦ̉̿̚   
  
Robert Callaghan can't stop screaming, not his head is tearing itself open from the inside out, and it feels like his own body is being swallowed up by it all and he just wants it all to _stop, please_ , he just wants to stop _thinking_ for five minutes he wants this headache to stop he wants the nightmares to stop and   
  
and   
  
when he can finally see clearly through the s̢͠͡t͏a҉t͘ì͢c̢, he thinks he _must_ have gone mad, but the pain is numb and his head is fogged and he just closes his eyes, puts his arms over his face  
  
and lets the microbots cover him like a shroud as he lets exhaustion overwhelm him and unconsciousness take him away.


	2. (False) Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again; no excuses made for character actions, nor blame- only acknowledgement of circumstances and less than stellar choices aggravated by the situation.
> 
> Implied/referenced drug use/suicide in this chapter. 
> 
> Originally posted on Dreamwidth 11/20/14.

They find him, of course.  
  
They find him yelling hysterically at the microbots, confused and terrified and having _no idea what is going on_. Robert is still in his prison uniform, of course, the bright orange a sharp contrast to the surrounding mass of grey and black. A mass that responds to his every thought, spoken or not; it undulates like he's never seen it before, as though _alive_ , and there's the horrific thought that maybe it is maybe it's got a mind of its own _but it still obeys when he throws his hands out and demands it just all **stop**_  
  
everything clatters to the floor as he breathes heavily, closing his eyes, trying to find some inner focus as his head continues to ache and pound.  
  
He's on the island, again, and even as his arms fall to his side he's slowly taking it all back in. He knows he can't hide here for long, but he doesn't realize just how little time he has until there's a sharp sneeze echoing from somewhere and _everything_ turns towards that sound. A dozen snake-heads of microbots form and loop protectively around him, shielding him from view and from attack and  
  
is that Honey?  
  
 _Professor?_ she asks timidly, stepping out with her hands before her, and she's in her little suit but damned if Robert can't in the slightest blame her. She's followed by Gogo, and then Fred and Wasabi and Hiro and Baymax all, all suited up because even he can't deny it; this looks bad. But he didn't _mean_ to be here, he doesn't understand what's going on, and he can barely say anything as he takes a slow step back  
  
in to microbots  
  
which then slide up his leg as though to form a suit of his own.  
  
Later, he would admit he handled this badly, even with all of the circumstances; when all is said and done, he panicked. Simply as that.  
  
They tried to catch him, of course, but there's only so much one could do against the microbots themselves; their most useful tool was a resin from Honey, and that could only contain so many at once, and when the others responded to the surge of adrenaline and _fear_ and his mind getting away from him as the need to _get away_ consumed all  
  
he lashed out, of course. Quite a bit. He doesn't even think of hurting them, but that doesn't mean he tries to avoid it, he just can't _think_ and it seems like the microbots are almost more in control of him than anything else.  
  
He ends up collapsing the entire base, critical structural damage, and the microbots whisk him away to 'safety' as he flees from everything that could cause him _to_ think.  
  
Because it's when he thinks that _they_ react.  
  
\---  
  
This is how it goes;  
  
Robert will find a place to rest, manage to scrounge up some food, and they will find him. Consistently and constantly. He's worn thin by it all, by their attempts to catch him and trap him and ' _help_ ' him, but they don't understand that the best thing for him right now _is to be left alone_.  
  
So he tries running further. Out of the city. And for a little while, it works, but there's only so many places you can hide a horde of microbots (ones that seem to replenish themselves, you tell yourself you'll find out eventually where they all come from but other things get in the way). It's especially difficult once his picture gets in the news; he relies on hats and sunglasses and whatever he can think of to hide his face and _keep the microbots from trying to do so for him_ , because they've somehow learned to mimic color and have a habit of trying to shield his face in a familiar but unwelcome white-and-red manner.  
  
He stays by the coast, mostly. The microbot _mass_ hides in the water, while a handful are upon him at any given time, and it takes some practice but he can at least keep them apart as long as he remembers in the back of his mind _to stay calm_.  
  
Calm is hard. It's all-too-easy to lose his temper and for the microbots to swarm up and around and break the disguise _for_ him, wrecking havoc until somebody - be it the 'Big Hero Six' or someone else - tries to stop him from lashing out at whatever's provoked him _this time_.  
  
He doesn't _want_ to be stopped. Worse; _he doesn't stop himself_ , not when he'll be walking through a city late at night and there's a scream and he winces because he wants it to _shut up_ and the microbots start to respond-  
  
His 'reign of terror' continues, and there's nowhere he can go to escape the inevitable.  
  
\---  
  
It's a lie to say he doesn't try and work with this; he does. He experiments, a bit, to see what if anything dulls his connection to the microbots; by now he's realized that his headaches have something to do with it, so he tries various painkillers with varying degrees of success. It's usually only the stronger ones that have any sort of effect, and those are...difficult...to obtain. At best.  
  
So he turns to theft.  
  
While he doesn't go out of his way to hurt anyone, if they stand in his way, well, that's their own mistake. He deals with them swiftly and efficiently and moves on, taking what he needs and leaving behind the rest, and digs himself deeper in to a hole he still sometimes can't believe he's in in the first place.  
  
His dreams, when not filled with machines and metal and microbots, are of Abigail. His students. Times when he was _happy_ , not just _enduring_ , and there are times when he feels so low, so utterly _disgusted_ with himself that he seriously considers just trying to _end_ it.  
  
He tries, a few of those times. The microbots stop him. He screams and rants at them as though they _are_ sentient, because he vehemently _does not want to live like this_  
  
they catch him if he tries to fall, they carry him if he tries to drown, if he tries to overdose there's a thin little chain that's damnably efficient at keeping him from actually _doing_ it  
  
so he resolves to endure, and try and find some sort of cure for himself while still running from everything.  
  
\---  
  
His first night back in San Fransokyo, he comes across a familiar face.  
  
He's taken to traveling by water, at this point; the microbots can create tight enough of a seal around him that if he breathes slowly, he can go _under_ water for periods of time. It's oddly relaxing; likely due to the carbon dioxide he's rebreathing, but while it gets warm, it never gets truly _uncomfortable_. Maybe they're filtering in oxygen, maybe they're piping in fresh air, who knows. He just keeps the thoughts of being _hidden_ and _quick_ in mind, and _avoiding_ anything, and it seems to work.  
  
(By now, he's understood that no matter _what_ happens, they're still responding to _him_ ; possibly his subconscious? It could explain how they sometimes act before he's really formed a thought. If he had the resources, he could do more research in to this, and figure out how it even happened in the first place...he can only _assume_ it had something to do with the neurocranialtransmitter, possibly from prolonged usage, but a theory is only a theory unless you can test it.)  
  
He comes up out of the water to find a handful of visored figures opening a shipping container, and there's a few tense moments of silence as he lands upon the dock and they stare and he stares back. And then he turns away, ignoring them, this isn't his business-  
  
 _Professor!_  
  
He stills, the microbots undulating over him in unease. Already-?  
  
No.  
  
It's _Shin_ , loudly yelling at _this is the guy I told you about_ and so on and so forth and he actually seems _glad_ to see him? Robert remains, confused, as Shin runs up to him like they're old friends and the other two just sort of linger in their own worried bafflement.  
  
He asks how he's not really Professor anymore, huh, how everyone's calling him Yokai, and Robert only tilts his head at the man (how long has it been? a year? two, at most?) as he tries to get some sort of information out of him while the others look at each other and seem to wonder whether or not they should run. Finally Shin asks for his _help_ , says he wants to introduce him to someone and this'd be a great way to start up with it.  
  
For the sake of having no idea what he's going to be doing here, anyway, Robert - 'Yokai', as they end up calling him, with Shin lapsing to it even after that initial hail - moves to the crates to see what they're up to.  
  
\---  
  
Shin introduces him to Yama.  
  
Yama, as it turns out, is the local mob boss in town; he has an eye on crime, and a weakness for botfights. And, soon enough, a healthy respect for Yokai, especially after Yokai's way of introducing himself is through Shin throwing open the doors to the meeting room, and then the microbots oozing in after him before Yokai himself makes his appearance.  
  
(It was suggested that assisting with the theft would be enough, but after understanding whom he was meeting, Robert was seized by the urge to go all out and decided to simply run with it.)  
  
Shin does most of the speaking, with Yokai communicating more through body language, gestures, and only a few rough words if it becomes necessary. His own voice is strange to him, so ill-used as it is, but it suffices and he is soon introduced to the rest.  
  
Some are 'friends' of Yama - others, San Fransokyo's more visual troublemakers. Some colorful, some not. Behind the mask, Robert wonders again how his life has come to this, in _this_ sort of company; the mask itself remains cold and angry, taking it all in as Yama picks up as though they hadn't been interrupted at all, already treating Yokai, too, as an old friend.  
  
\---  
  
Through Yama, he has an agreement.  
  
Yama can obtain specific equipment for him, specific things he needs; in return, Yokai takes care of some specialized business. Neither considers themselves under the hand of the other, though Yokai couldn't care much what Yama thinks; so long as the mob boss upholds his end of the bargain, so does he. He doesn't particularly _like_ trading favors, but Yama's activity keeps the Big Hero Six off of him long enough so that he can actually _do_ something.  
  
He's able to start _working_ again.  
  
The microbots, as though waiting for permission all along, build him such wonderful things. It's like a dream all over again, and for a little while, he doesn't need any sort of chemical or crutch to find a precious little shard of happiness.  
  
\---  
  
He ends up underwater, boring away at the rock there, and ends up with a construction that only he can enter through the aid of his microbots. Shin, occasionally, joins him; the young man, calling himself his Voice, is his direct liaison to Yama and helps him get what he needs. Some of which is raw materials; the microbots may be able to build anything he can dream of but they still need something to _start_ with. And mixing chemicals? _That_ he has to do himself, but when he's able to coat them all in a mixture that's able to reject most scanning technology out there, he's able to _relax_ for the first time in what seems like ages and feel, at least partially, _safe_.  
  
It's a feeling he never thought he'd feel again.  
  
It only grows as he tests it out and goes out in 'public' with only so many microbots mimicking fabric and clothing (which generally works, so long as he doesn't get too close to anyone) and _nobody_ stops him.  
  
 _Nobody_ tries to catch him.  
  
Even when he goes 'home', at the end of the day, it's the best he's felt in years.  
  
\---  
  
Highs and lows still happen.  
  
When he's alone, when he's on the rare middle ground, Robert can privately admit to himself that he is perhaps not all right. That the stress is getting to him, and that if things were _different_ , he might accept referral to a therapist. His own anger scares even him; his self-loathing and self-disgust tear him apart when given free reign. He endures. Somehow.  
  
And starts making plans.  
  
Shin works with him to steer Yama's gaze towards Krei, and the company begins to suffer numerous faults. Yama steers him as an enforcer of sorts, and while he refuses to become a hired _murderer_ , things do happen. There are occasional run-ins with his former students, and while he doesn't go out of his way to hurt them...  
  
If they get in his way, they accept they may be hurt. It's as simple as that.  
  
But no true grudge ever comes, not even when Shin contacts him and after some talk about how he's in a local racing circuit and there was this new challenger and she beat him and part of her prize involved him delivering a message to Yokai...  
  
It was a strange demand, but he felt obliged to do it, and it's with some bafflement that the envelope is accepted and Yokai retreats to open it  
  
and for the first time in a while, he can't think at all.  
  
 _Happy birthday, Professor Callaghan_ it reads, signed by all of them, a few recent pictures included as well and newspaper clippings and the microbots are _still_ as his hand trembles and he picks the pieces off the floor and looks them over and reads it all and there are tears streaming down his face because after realizing the date it's right on time and even old and broken as he is  
  
they haven't given up on him  
  
and the microbots pull themselves back together as he realizes with a fluttering heart that, for their own sake, he needs to force the issue.


	3. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one gets dark. Violence, trauma, throwing-concepts-against-the-wall-to-see-if-they-stick. We also kick the puppy.
> 
> Originally posted on DW 11/24.

Yokai is swift, merciless, and _cruel_.

The Lucky Cat Cafe. The school. The mansion (though that does involve a brief fight with another man who seems to harken towards the superhero ideals of the 60s but it makes him no less an opponent and he has to make a retreat because it's as though he knows his every move before it happens.)

He goes for full on _chaos_ , causing as much destruction and terror as he can as he tries to convince his students there's nothing left of him to 'save'.

He targets things close to them, and _were_ close to _him_ in an attempt to sever himself from his past. Krei Tech's new face is absolutely _annihilated_ , dozens injured or killed, _and he relishes it all_.

This is freeing. Lifting. _Purging._ He clings to these thoughts and ideas, terrorizing the city, and it's only through the other active heroes of the local area (three even coming in from Metroville) banding together that his great plan to _destroy the entire coastline_ (and how did he ever come up with that? even he doesn't know, he just needed to make a threat for _them_ to _stop_ ) that he's even rivalled in terms of sheer force.

In the end, they defeat him in a similar manner as they had before; disarming him. As his microbots are stripped, stolen, and _destroyed_ , leaving him with barely enough to hold in a hand, he lets himself fall in to the ocean and _fall_ and for a long period of time he just hopes it all weighs him down enough so that he's finally _done_.

He wakes up on a beach somewhere in Canada with a cluster of microbots upon his shoulders, pulls his remains back together, and carries on.

\---

It's during this time that he finds an answer to a question; _where do they all come from_? Because he goes from a mantle to a coat of the things, and after some experimenting, he is able to have what he _has_ draw towards what he _hasn't_. And it leads him, once again, towards where it all began, until he's once again standing at the ruins of what is now Krei Tech's ancient history and this time in its deepest bowels, where he's greeted by the sight of still-functional machines.

He recognizes them from his dreams. His nightmares. They are not the _same_ , but their design has changed very little from when he first built them to replicate the microbot design in to nigh infinity. He wonders, partially, how they're still functional, then _why_ , and then there's such a heavy sensation in him as he realizes that he can't bring himself to destroy them.

He falls to his knees in a daze, microbots clinging to him as though to offer some desperate sort of comfort, and it seems like years before he can bring himself to even _move_.

\---

Shin has been talking with Gogo.

He's been _racing_ against her, more like, a 'friendly' rivalry, and while there are other things he first reports _that_ is the only thing Robert can focus on. Shin would have him believe he's gone back to working with Yama but that he was just _waiting_ for him to return, because they both know where his loyalties lay, he laughs. He doesn't realize just how disgusted his mentor really is until he sneers, _you know she's just using you to get to me, right?_

It stops Shin cold. He stammers about how they all thought Yokai was dead, how they didn't think-

_Idiot._

He's rarely _ever_ dismissed Shin so, and he can see the hurt; he pushes past it, pushes back _Shin_ , and takes a look at the decay of their 'headquarters'.

Then he raises his hands, and has the microbots get back to work.

\---

The next time he fights the Big Hero 6, they're ready for him.

They must have realized that he wasn't going to go down so easily, even with such a power to face him, but this time they don't bother getting backup. They don't need it, really; they're a match for him on his own, and without the benefit of a 'grand plan', Yokai perhaps does not _want_ to necessarily have to be forced in to a retreat but he does not discount the possibilities, and has secondary plans if such a thing occurs.

What he doesn't have a new plan for is their new device.

All of the sudden, to him? The world is nothing but _white_ and, for a moment, ȁ̸̵̹̟̯̣̹͈̰͎̗̯̥͒̃̓̔̇͛̌̃́͘͟ͅg͉̮͚̯̳͉̝̝̦͉͚̝͔͍͈̪̞̻͙̋̎ͧͯ̄͘͢͠͡ő̃͒̔̓ͬ̋ͧͪ͡҉̙͎̬̮͓̲͓͕ͅn̶̶̵̻̺̯̟̭̻͔͉̭̙͍̖͐̓̄́̍ͪ̔ͭ̐͋ͬ̉y̸̸̪̬͇̥͈͚͈̞̠̤̭̰̪̜̒̍̈ͮ͛. To the outside world, he crumples much like the microbots, falling from high on to a hundred thousand little pieces of metal, spasming as though in seizure. There's no scream from him, no sound of pain but a stilted, horrible gasping sound, as though he's forgotten how to breathe.

He has.

The world is w̢͇̯̪̅̊ͦͫ̎͟h͓̯͕̪͍̔͊i̧̬̮͉͔̪̖͖͂͐̽̒ͥͭ̅̈̀t̷͙̖̺ͦͭ͢ẽ͒͌҉͍̟͚̫̤͍̀ and P̷̨̱̳̟̯̙̞̘͉̰̻̮͍̻͈̂ͩͨ̂̀̉A̵̙̩̖̫̯̭̝̤͙͙̹̠̯̜͍̘̥̫͔ͤͯ̇ͮ̀͞͞͡Ï̶̵ͩ̑͛҉҉͕̩̖ͅŃͧ̍ͪ̚͏̧̹̮̗̱̘͍̣̬, not a single thought crossing his head as it feels like he's having all of his prior headaches condensed into a single moment that then stretches for eternity. Robert Callaghan is _dying_ and doesn't even have the presence of mind to understand it, his brain is numb and then the faintest of sounds creep in to his perception as the white begins to fade.

_-think it would do that!_

_He's not breathing, I think you've_ killed him!

He can't even move, he's still in such agony. He understands he's trembling, but not why, and there are hands on him pulling him out from the mass and he can't even get his feet under him, he doesn't understand what's going on, he's-

_they're still moving, careful-_

_-can't do that to him again-_

_-probably deserves it-_

_-scan him, damn it, find out what's gone wrong!-_

_-diagnosis; severe-_

Shaking hands barely manage to curl in to claws as he tries to raise his head and _can't_ , he's too _weak_ , there's blood leaking out of his nose and eyes and even his ears and maybe he _is_ dying, he doesn't understand what happened and he's suffocating with all these bodies around him-

-there's a figure there, almost as tall as he, holding what looks like a small radio transmitter, and then he _understands_ as someone tries to secure his hands behind him. He understands that that, there, whatever it is, is/was the source; just as quickly, he understands that if it's used again, so will the entire sequence repeat itself.

There is an unholy _screech_ of fear-rage- _terror_ from him, but he's not even sure it's from him directly; the microbots are lashing out as well, piercing forwards in a single spike, and there is a gutwrenching _scream_ from somewhere as it goes _through_ the figure, dozens of feet behind him, and when they pull back there is blood.

He has never seen the microbots bloodied before.

But the fear-rage-terror- _abhorrence_ is still strong, still overwhelming, and the microbots whisk him away even while conscious thought is difficult. He leaves pain in his wake as pain still covers him as closely as the microbots do, but at least _they_ try to get him away from it all.

\---

Days are needed to recover, but he is still wary. While before he held a certain respect for his students, now there is a certain _fear_ , but with it comes the understanding that this is all because of him.

_He_ drove them to this point.

This is _his_ mistake.

Yokai begins working more closely with Yama out of necessity; he remains in the shadows, rarely broaching the light, and trades favors for supplies as he tries to understand just what has occurred and how he can counter it.

Based on what he can learn through trial and error upon his own self, it may be that they were trying to interfere with the signal to the microbots - but that signal is coming directly from his own brain, and so it interfered with that as well. He is lucky that certain other organs do not require conscious thoughts, or else he _would_ be dead.

The microbots shiver for him, but he continues to experiment. There is little he can do to block such a signal from his own head, short of a brief experiment with a total-blocking device; for the first time in years, the microbots are dormant, and the sight alone of them so _lifeless_ and _still_ terrifies him enough to immediately remove and let them destroy the band.

He has lived too long with them to dare undergo any length of time without.

\---

_Sins_ , they call themselves in private. Yama is _Greed_ , a title which he laughs about in public and sneers of behind closed doors. There is _Envy_ , a disfigured woman who claims to have been an experiment, and displays abilities that science balks at because _they simply make no sense_ ; _Sloth_ and _Gluttony_ are siblings, _Lust_ an androgynous figure who turns heads every time they step in to a room. Yokai finds himself disgusted by them all, but especially _Pride_ , who almost never shuts up.

It is probably no surprise that they call him _Wrath_.

Together they discuss how to _deal_ with the Big Hero 6, but despite his close ties to them, Yokai refuses to speak of anything but what is publicly known. Envy accuses him of protecting them; Pride makes some comment about everyone having their pets. By the end of it, 'Wrath' excuses himself by all but tearing the door off its hinges; the microbots sweep him up and away, and with a dark heart, he begins to carry out his own stages of the plan.

It's a good one, not like his only-so-focused attempts to get the Six to reject him; but when all is said and done, many people whom he has no ties to will get hurt, and he is only so certain if such a thing is worth it.

\---

There are occasional team ups; despite his preference to work alone, he cannot deny that they each have their uses. And when they all work as one, the results astound even him.

Predictably, it all still goes to hell.

Maybe it was inevitable, Greed turning upon Sloth in a murderous stroke, or Envy upon Pride; the Sins tear themselves apart, and while Wrath only defends himself briefly, he _does_ linger around to watch them all fall and he can't help but laugh, madly, because _what did they think was going to happen?_

This alliance was doomed to failure from the start.

The Six are astounded when he's the one to free them, microbots forcing them back to their feet. It's Wasabi who ventures a tentative question along the lines of _does this mean you're helping us_ , and to that, Yokai laughs again before tossing them away.

_Help **them** ,_ he orders curtly, referring to the innocents - _civilians, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, everything in between_ \- currently at stake. His former students hesitate only a moment before he snarls, _what are you WAITING for!?_  and then they mobilize, Gogo rolling forwards slowly at first and then off in a yellow blur. The others are barely starting to follow by the time she's out of sight.

But just as he's making to leave, his gaze lingers upon Hiro - he's as tall as his brother once was, now - for far too long, the two of them sharing a look that is silent as much as it is loud.

_I'm sorry,_ Hiro finally says. _Back when...I didn't think the disrupter would do that to you._

Memories that Callaghan has tried to forget. He lingers there for a few moments, eyes dropping towards the boy's armored midsection...and then, before he can think to find words, the thought of _leaving_ overwhelms him and he flees the scene.

\---

Yama calls for him sometime later. He is dubious, especially after watching him murder an 'ally' in cold blood, but Shin is persistent, and he finally consents. There's the familiar smell of smoke and unwashed bodies, here in the club that serves as Yama's own base of operations, but everyone gives him and what microbots he brings a wide berth and it's the best he can expect.

He's taken to the meeting room, welcomed by Yama, and then the world is w҉hit̵e͏.

When he's aware again, he's on his hands and knees and Yama is _laughing_ , waving something in his hand, and rage is overwhelming and he lashes out and again- w̡̡̛hi̡t͝e̡.

He's collapsed on the floor, hands to his head, and Yama is talking but he can't understand what he's saying because there is no thought there is only p̶̡̟͎̖̫̗̜͓̈͛̎ͫ̎̆̊͠a̟̻̮͍̝͈͙ͫͨͥ̓͗ͧ͟ȉ̵̞͉͙̝͔̿̅͋ͤ̅ͭ̀͟ͅͅn̟̮̞̩ͫ̉ͨ̒̄͐͌̏.

He's dying.

He _wants_ to die.

_-at last, where you've belonged all along!-_

It hurts.

\---

Shin has betrayed him.

What was once his Voice is now that which keeps him silent. Silent, obedient, and constantly in fear that color will fade and he will _hurt_. There are occasional _taunts_ of mercy, but that's all they are; taunts. Yokai - _Callaghan_  stills his trembling shoulders, steadies his shaking hands, and gets to work building whatever he's asked for. Occasionally Yama is even pleased, and there is nothing but a mocking pat on the shoulder and a new project.

When Yama is displeased, he ends up weak for days, sick and _ruined_ and  worthless and still forced to act as though he is functional.

He considers running; there is nowhere _to_ run. He burned those bridges himself, and despite a few recent pinpoints of light, there is no doubt whom those who _could_ help him would think of him were he even able to make contact.

God, it hurts.

\---

They have him monitoring Big Yama Mark V. Yama remains the controller, but Yokai remains there for backup and support, should Yama desire it. Really, he's just a dog following the leash, as Yama never fails to remind him, and he's a dog following orders as well when the leash is tugged through Shin, who motions him forwards.

There is little enthusiasm in the response, but there _is_ , at least, a professionalism as BY-MV falls under the BH6 (a task which will no doubt end up in another wretched state, but he did his best, perhaps if he does better now his punishment will be lessened and isn't that a wretched thought all on its own). He moves forwards swiftly, _lethally_ , covering the retreat.

It's not the first time he's been coerced to do this, and it won't be the last; the previous he was ensuring a shipment reached its destination without harassment. Of which there was some, but only to him as he shielded the haul.

Nevertheless, this is practically an old game for him and the Big Hero 6; they know each other's moves, even the ones they think are new again, but none of them have the pain-driven _desperation_ that Yokai has, and before long Honey Lemon has lost her bag and is looking up at him with wild and scared eyes as he moves in for the kill _end it end it now_.

He intends to make this quick, but just as he's pulling the microbots in position, of all things, there is a _child_ running betweem them and screaming _Auntie!_

_Auntie?_

He will remember the next few moments for the rest of his life; a woman chasing down her young child, who in turn is trying to outrace the microbots as they move for his former student.

The microbots, in turn, making to bash that child back, and let the angle sweep it back _to_ it's presumed mother but for that he needs to look at her

and his heart stops

because he would recognize his _own_ child anywhere.

The child is thrown back, the scream cutting off in a stilted, horrible gasping sound, and his daughter falls to the ground as she catches him, _agony_ written all over her face

and agony fills _him_ , too, a piercing pain even as the edge of the world taunts at wh̛it̸e

out of the corner of his perception he hears Shin screaming desperately, but the world is falling, and _he_ is falling, too, the microbots spasming around him as for the first time in _years_ , his eyes meet those of Abigail's

and all those worn pieces of him, strained thin

all these fragmented little bent out of shape bits

s̢ha͢t҉t́eŗ

and the world is light and dark at once and then, nonexistent.


	4. Daydream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been here this long, you have an idea of what to expect. (Minor edit made a few hours after posting, but it's important to me and I wanted to throw it in there somewhere.)

The world does not return.

He does not _want_ it to return.

Instead, it is as though he stands at a great precipice, over a vast chasm of black; _gaze in to the abyss and it will gaze in to you_ comes to mind, here, and he does not know how long he remains. Eternity, perhaps; it certainly _feels_ like such. _This_ has become his new reality; the fragmented shards of _feeling_ and _sound_ and _noise_ but the dream.

It gets worse when Tadashi comes to visit. Because Tadashi stares at him with such mixed emotions he cannot help but avoid his gaze, closing his eyes against that weight and the weight of everything else.

 _Your death was a waste,_ he 'says' quietly. _You could have done so much..._

_You set the fire._

He did. He set that fire and countless others, and who knows how many other Tadashis he's killed as they've gone back for others? And if he's right, _his own grandchild_ as well.

Other grandchildren. Sons. Mothers. He was deluding himself, back with the Sins; they were doing the same exact thing he had been willing to do not long before that. But then, has he ever said his hands were clean? Not since the beginning, he doesn't think, and yet he's made no effort to stop himself from going further and further. This has gone far beyond his need for revenge upon Krei (when was the last time he even chose Krei as a target?); this has spiraled out of his control, and the only thing he has done is ride it down.

Tadashi stays with him, off and on; there's not much talking. Sometimes there's _screaming_ , Robert ineffectually confessing his crimes, how he's _chosen all of this_ , trying to make him leave in disgust. Sometimes it works...but Tadashi always comes back, in time.

Robert finally gets around to asking why he's even here. Tadashi doesn't respond immediately, furrowing his brow before finally answering with a simple statement.

_I believe in you._

Damned optimistic kid. _You shouldn't,_ Callaghan whispers, looking down over the edge. How easy it would be to jump-! _Haven't I shown it to be a mistake?_

 _I know,_ the young man - and doesn't he look just like he did, at that presentation, all young potential and enthusiasm but now, grim, looking down at him with such great and heavy disappointment and yet- and yet- _But I'm still going to try._

\---

Awareness is in bits and pieces.

He's secured, of course, in some sort of infirmary he can't make much sense of. There's a heavy pressure around his head, and every so often there's movement, but the chasm is less and less in his mind and more and more he's wondering why he's even still alive.

Oddly enough, even with all that's happened, his head feels the clearest it has in years. He just might be drugged; he _probably_ is drugged, he corrects, before succumbing to that and if he can't find the abyss again, at least he can perhaps find unconsciousness.

Eventually, though, there's a time when he's awake and _Baymax_ of all people is at the bedside, reading off some medical scans and other things Robert's a bit too dazed to follow. He was never really that kind of scientist; military science, yes, and then trying to push students to change the world while he stayed behind in his own...

He's been sedated, apparently, while they've treated his head trauma; now he's being taken off of them, at least so they can talk. Whom he'll be talking with is made clear a moment later as Baymax turns to address someone and Robert follows his gaze and-

- _Tadashi_?

No. _Hiro_ , who grown to look so much like his brother it's uncanny, and wearing an old, faded hat that also looks so very familiar. But there's enough tells in his demeanor to break the illusion, if you look for them, and even in his state Robert can see them accumulate. Hiro's not armored - apparently they don't consider him a threat in this condition, and, well, that's fair enough - and Robert can also see some scars on him by now, perhaps not so many as to disfigure but enough to show proof of battle.

There's no doubt a large scar at his abdomen, too. 

This talk...Callaghan is not sure what he expects. He asks if he's a prisoner; Hiro has another word for it, but the meaning is the same. He asks of the microbots; they've made a device that doesn't so much _jam_ the signal as negate it, and he is (understandably) not told more than that. Finally, he finds the strength to ask of Abigail.

Hiro doesn't respond immediately. But when he does, and admit they're _both_ alive, Robert closes his eyes and suppresses to urge to cry. Hiro goes on to describe that his grandchild is going through physical therapy after spinal damage and that just makes the urge overwhelming and he's grimacing because he can't, he _can't_ show weakness

 _It is all right to cry,_ offers Baymax. _Crying is a natural response to pain._

he _can't_ but it hurts so much and he's drowning in it like he has the anger; he's not really aware of anything but the _pain_ and the _ache_ in his head, a dull overwhelming throb, and perhaps he is weeping; the only ever time he's ever felt _remotely_ like this was when (he thought) he'd lost Abigail.

He isn't sure he hasn't, again. He'd avoided seeing her, or even trying to think of her; he hadn't known she'd (presumably) found someone, he hadn't known she'd had a child, or if there was more than one, _he hadn't known he was a grandfather_. He'd avoided knowing because he'd been afraid what she would think of him- and well, what could she possibly think of him now?

 _Auntie!_ he remembers the child scream, and he does cry. He gives voice to the pain and agony and everything else he's gone through these past few years, and when he is aware again he is alone.

\---

After his 'escape', Abigail had made friends with his students.

She had not been close to any in particular, but they had been worried he would somehow fixate on her. What had begun as keeping an eye on her for her own safety soon became a camaraderie. Even as she found a new life, they kept their ties, with occasional _babysitting_ involved as well. The fact that she'd managed to achieve some normalcy while he was embroiled in insanity is somewhere between a relief and sheer lunacy, and threatens to bring another bought of hysteria in his addled state.

Abigail does not come to see him. He is _glad_ for this. He thinks he's lost his mind, that he's in the _process_ of losing it, and it would be just so damned easy to hide away in that and never face the weight of himself again-!

While others do see him, these are not the sort of visits that were as the jail- they do not _let_ him hide, and they do not _let_ him avoid the subjects. Even as he snarls poison to turn them away, _they do not_. He hurts them, that much is obvious, but it's with Gogo of all people that he exhausts himself and ends up looking away with a weary grimace.

He admits, then, that he is absolutely _sick_ of himself and what he's done.

For a period of time, there is only silence, punctuated by the slow chew and pop of bubblegum. A habit she has never lost, despite growing in to a formidable woman; they've all aged, and can no longer be considered 'kids' but for the difference of years between them and him. Gogo has cut her hair, the colored streak long gone, and she bears her own battlescars that yet only further sharpen her features.

Finally...

 _Woman up_ , she hisses, voice dripping venom as she gets to her feet, _and **do** something about it._

\---

His first 'woman up' action involves getting the headpiece off. It takes no small amount of effort and planning and _waiting_ , but it's like before- there is an opportunity to sabotage its connection and he _seizes_ it, microbots suddenly pouring from the vent as though just _waiting_ for him to call them 'home'. He moves swiftly, from there, taking advantage of the single slim breach of security-

-and then he is gone.

Then he goes for Shin.

It is not long before he finds him, but he spends just as long _toying_ with him. Feeding upon his fear. It is a game of cat and mouse and by the time he finally reveals himself in full, Shin is staring at him at wide eyes, flat on his back, binder just visible through the tears in his clothing. He is pale, white, and terrified, and _why not_? He is, after all, seeing his own death, and Yokai is a reaper in his own right. His steps to amend his sins are cleaning up after another's, and at least the anger he feels now is back to being justified and focus and he raises his hands to slowly _squeeze_ the life of his former protégé after demanding Yama's location and

_he has my family_

Robert _pauses_.

He does not _falter_ ; he only pauses, staring at Shin, realization creeping in with those four words just what has gone on for who knows how many years. Because that?...that sort of statement he _understands_ , he understands the lengths one will go for blood because he has lived through them himself, and in this Shin suddenly becomes not his protégé, not a surrogate student, not even the warped sort of mirror of Tadashi that Robert once thought he was

but a reflection of Callaghan himself.

And just like that, he drops him to the floor. But Shin is barely managing to get to his hands and knees before Yokai is before him, physically grabbing him with both hands and hauling him back up to his feet. 

_Turn yourself in,_ he orders. _Tell them everything you know._ And when Shin protests that Yama will kill his family, Yokai only repeats the order, and adds that _he_ will deal with _Yama_.

Just like he planned to from the start.

\---

If Shin is a reflection of his dedication to his own blood, then Yama is a mirror as well; he is a complete and total disregard for others and what damage may occur in the process. Though dealing with him, Callaghan is not seeking atonement, but confronting _himself_ and what he has grown to hate.

He does not win. 

Though measures have been taken to filter out interference, Yama's goons and resources and _tools_ overwhelm Callaghan, and he falls to the ground in an unwelcome kneel, trying vainly to push himself up even as he pants for breath and the microbots tremble ineffectually and Yama sneers about how this is only the beginning, how he will find everything that Callaghan has ever cared for and destroy it before him, and everyone around him echoes his disgusting laughter-

And then they stop, and then they shout, and then there are Six beside him.

From here, the 'fight' is a rout. He may not have been able to _defeat_ Yama but he had at least weakened him and his enough, it seems, that by the time he's able to stand on his own the place is eerily silent and he is very much aware of all the attention upon him. The scrutiny is overwhelming, and there is the _urge_ to run and the microbots creep forwards to once again speed him away-

-he asks if they brought the blocking device.

\---

The lawyer is well-versed in superhero legalities, though he is the first 'villain' she has agreed to defend. She's a superhero herself, and apparently fought against him those years ago when he tried to destroy the coastline, a story which brings a rueful little expression to his face and the admission he doesn't know what he was really thinking. 

She hones in on that, and despite what may be a grudge, is at least good at what she does. The _you just said you couldn't stop yourself_ point is hammered home again and again, and even as Robert shouts that he knows exactly what he was doing, she shouts right back at him how _little_ that means in the court of law.

This isn't a matter of guilty or innocent, she insists, but the need for him to _get help_ , unless he wants to go back in prison and they all know how little good that'd do. He is stopped from protesting further by the harsh reminder of his final fight against Yama, and perhaps sullenly sits back down. He then tries to block it all out, but he is both coaxed and forced in to playing a part in his own 'defense'.

What do you want? they ask him, and he has no answer. He doesn't know anymore, he doesn't know what he's been chasing all these years, he doesn't know what's fueled him other than his hate and what good is that? Then they ask him what he _doesn't_ want, and that comes at least more easily, and what it boils down to is simple;

_I don't want to be alone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not done yet. One more 'main' chapter to go, and then possibly an actual epilogue.


	5. Lucidity

He may stand at the trial, but it is decidedly different from the one so many years ago. As before, he rarely speaks, but he is at least more aware of it than he was before. The laws have evolved, since before- as times have changed and more and more incidents have come up, so there have been new adaptations and applications and _interpretations_. He is not the first so-called supervillain to be brought in to court, and he will not be the last, but a few glances between he and his lawyer suggest that this is a bit of a _special_ case.  
  
He's only so certain why. Even he can see that whatever motives he had burned out long ago, and that he's been riding on ashes ever since. The blocking band is tight around his head, filtering any threats away, and he's on a dose of stabilizers that have at least kept him thinking _clearly_. Despite, well...  
  
_Criminally insane_ , he hears them whisper, though they call it something else in court. That in itself gives him a headache until he surprises even himself by standing and asking, _May I speak in my own defence?_  
  
It is not a _defence_ , per se, but an admission of guilt and culpability. That he _has_ done wrong and he _understands this_ , even if he is still uncertain of how it got here but here they all are. That he _had_ no reason to do these things and did it anyway, and that he is, understandably, _unsafe_.  
  
But more than that, he's not unrepentant.  
  
_I'm not asking for freedom_ , he says, looking around as his lawyer watches him closely with an unreadable expression. _I'm asking for a chance to at least **try** and do something about all this, and to take responsibility for my actions._  
  
How could he do that? He's not sure. But being locked up for the rest of his life certainly doesn't seem like a way to do it, and yet...if they choose not to grant him this chance, he understands.  
  
It was, after all, _his_ mistake.  
  
\---  
  
When the verdict is given, it is not _surprising_ but he still feels a bit disappointed. Stomach in his throat, he simply bows his head and accepts it, accepts being lead off towards incarceration but before he steps in to the vehicle that is there to take him away, there is a sense of deja vu.  
  
He looks up, and immediately meets a pair of eyes.  
  
They have aged, like him, and there are new lines around them, but they look just the same as they did back when he _hurt_ her - and then, those years even longer ago. There is still pain in them, but she holds his gaze, refusing to look away - and so does he, as long as he can.  
  
Despite the distance between them, there is still a connection there.  
  
_I love you. I'm sorry._  
  
_I know, and I haven't forgiven you, but I do still love you._  
  
And then he is alone.  
  
\---  
  
The ward is not comfortable, and arguably he had better conditions when he was in the prison itself. In addition, it brings with it the stigma of _crazy_ , which is...possibly one of the worst sort of punishments that _could_ be given to a man who had always been proud of his mind. But the lawyer is still working on finding another place, and assures him that, given good behavior, this is only 'temporary'.  
  
It's even more temporary when Envy comes to break him out.  
  
She announces herself with the screams of chaos, but Robert barely only looks up from his book as half the wall explodes. He'd honestly expected this sort of thing sooner, but only adjusts his reading glasses before looking back down to turn the page.  
  
(Reading, at least, gives him something to focus upon.)  
  
For a few long moments there is only the sound of her heaving for breath - and then, the sound of a snarl. _What are you WAITING for?_ she demands once recovered, moving over and grabbing hold of his wrist. He pulls it away with a look of distaste, frowning deeply.  
  
_I'm not leaving._  
  
She is taken aback by that, then snarls again, furious, ranting about how she's spent _her_ time for _him_ and not realizing that he trusts her just only _slightly_ more than he does Yama. But even so, he shakes his head and informs her she's made a mistake and should probably leave before someone comes to stop her.  
  
She nearly berserks, then. And Robert is reduced to stalling, and then scrambling, and then that damned band is ripped off his head and he can't help but scream as for the first time in _weeks_ he _feels_ a connection and as though from miles away something _awakens_ and tries to respond.  
  
She's still on him, choking him even now, rage in her heart and murder in her eyes as he struggles vainly, and as what _could_ save him is still too far away to arrive in time.  
  
_They're changing you,_ Envy hisses, _Destroying your mind, reprogramming it to their own wants, and you're **letting** them!_  
  
Callaghan stares at her wildly, clutching at her hands, then manages to heave in some breath. _Maybe,_ he gasps, _but if I can't trust myself, I may as well trust them-!_  
  
Either trust, or start running again for who knows how long, and running only took him so far in the first place. So he suffers her _toying_ with him, alternating between strangling him and tossing him about like a ragdoll, screaming all the while- but all the while, Robert desperately clings to the knowledge that _they have so rarely let him down_. He tries to flee further inside the facility but _she does not let him_ , she is blind with rage, and though it seems like years, she is finally thrown off of him by _something_  
  
Someone.  
  
Someone is by him, rolling him over as he gags and hacks and _on a scale of one to ten..._  
  
\---  
  
The next facility is more secure, and of somewhat better quality. His lawyer wryly notes that she was able to work his refusal to cooperate with Envy in his favor; he can only shrug at that and rub at the healing burn-bruises still on his throat.  
  
He has not _forgotten_ what she said, about them 'reprogramming' him; it is something that keeps him awake at night, but not for himself. He wonders just what _that_ woman has gone through, and feels an inkling of pity; but more than that, he wonders if he'll ever stop seeing himself in others, or at least the worst parts thereof.  
  
Then, for the first time in a long while...he dreams of the microbots. And when he awakens, he _aches_ for their familiarity and comfort so much he trembles. He holds the band at his head, knowing by now how best to disable and remove its locks, it would be so very easy to break free as he did before...  
  
By the bed, there is a picture of Abigail and her child, both smiling despite the walking crutches that will no doubt be present for many more years. She sent it to him not long after the transfer, but he has not been able to pen a reply. In lieu of starting another aborted letter, he takes the photo, holds it close for the rest of the night, and clings to what little comfort it offers.  
  
\---  
  
Shin writes to him but once.  
  
There isn't much to say, but he does speak of cutting a plea bargain. Of witness protection, protective custody, and so on and so forth. The Six were able to find his family, even if Yama is still at large, and they are, at least as far as he knows, safe.  
  
He writes that he probably won't see or speak with him again. That he isn't sure where things are going from here, but that his full cooperation seems to have given him _some_ sort of advantage, and that he hopes that he can maybe help bring Yama down once and for all.  
  
At the end, he writes _thanк you foг evєrythเng_.  
  
Callaghan keeps it close, and will occasionally take it out to read it over to himself. He tries to find comfort in the thought that he did at least _one_ good deed during all the dark. But it's _in_ the dark, one night, that he reads the letter and then rereads it and then _rereads it again_ , something in the writing catching his attention.  
  
And then he realizes what Shin is _really_ trying to tell him.  
  
к г є เ  
  
\---  
  
He fills out the request form, and fully expects it 'lost'. So he fills out _another_ request, this time to someone else, and it's to Hiro he expresses a need for closure and stresses the fact that _there is nothing he can do to hurt him_. Hiro is dubious, but finally says he'll see what they can do, on the condition that one of them is present for it.  
  
_Fine._ More than fine, really. In fact, he has to hold back his satisfaction on the 'condition'.  
  
Wasabi's the one who serves as Krei's escort, and god, he's grown. He's always been physically imposing, but he's _hardened_ over the years, a practical brick, and yet there's a grace to him that he's never lost. With a meaningful look to Callaghan, he takes up position by the door with arms crossed. He's suited up, seeming to treat himself as a full-on _guard_ , and all told?  
  
Robert doesn't mind in the least.  
  
Krei, too, has aged, and has a bit of white in his hair. He's still the same Krei that Robert remembers, however, all arrogant and laughing things off and not in the _slightest_ understanding why Robert has called him here.  
  
Until Robert mentions Yama.  
  
And then mentions wondering just where Yama got his tech, in those weeks as his 'dog'.  
  
Krei's laughter falters, and he insists he doesn't know what Callaghan is talking about; he's not a bad liar. But Robert has to believe that he himself isn't just seeing things, that he's not just looking for someone to blame, that there's _something_ to this and to Shin's hidden message.  
  
Forcing himself to stay calm pays off in the end. Because Krei is more and more nervous until he grips his fists and 'admits' that _if he had been approached_...  
  
A bit more pressing and Krei balls his fists, stress permeating his features.  
  
_You backed me in to a corner! What the hell was I **supposed** to do!_  
  
There's a venom in his stomach, a great hatred for Krei once again not thinking things through - or not _caring_. But he knows what hate brings, and while he cannot bring himself to accept what little (not-)apology Krei offers he can at least bring himself to walk away.  
  
_You're spineless,_ he throws over his shoulder, _and if I ever hear about you working with them again...!_  
  
It's an empty promise. Oh, he'd like to find another wormhole to throw him through, but that's long in the past and while he hasn't forgiven him for _that_ , either, he's at least forced himself past such a thing. What matters here is the sheer _alarm_ on Krei's face, and how selfishly satisfying it is to be taken seriously, even as a threat.  
  
His eyes briefly meet Wasabi's - who has never altered his position from the door - and, briefly, he sees him nod.  
  
_I got you,_ it says. _We got this._  
  
The thing is, _he_ was never going to _be_ that threat.  
  
\---  
  
Weeks turn to months. There is another transfer and a another 'jailbreak' which he deliberately ignores, especially as it was it was poorly planned in the first place. The Six, after some discussion, send him some updates on their hunt for Yama; he may have fled the country (if nothing else, the city) after a surplus of new information on his dealings.  
  
Months themselves begin to bleed in to a year. Then two. In all truth, Callaghan tries not to think about it too much, because it is an all-too-painful reminder how much longer he has _left_. Or little, depending on the way one looks at things; he is growing old, and with the weight of his sentences (mitigated or not), could easily spend the rest of his life here.  
  
It sickens him, and is more than enough to shake his composure. It would be so easy, _so easy_ to escape...  
  
Then Hiro approaches him for something completely unexpected. _We need your help,_ he says, and once again Robert is reminded of how much he looks like Tadashi. He's older than Tadashi was, now, and his features aren't quite as narrow, but if Robert's not paying attention...  
  
But he is. Because he couldn't much imagine Hiro, of all people, coming to him for help- but then, recent news stories _have_ given him a healthy concern for the fate of the _planet itself_. Apparently he is not alone in that concern, especially not if the entirety of the Six have sought him out, and yet...and yet...  
  
He admits concern regarding being under a _leash_ again, and he uses those words, and sees Hiro's brow furrow; he elaborates that he will not just trade one master for another, playing a part and then just being tossed away when he's done.  
  
Understanding then dawns. Hiro drums his fingers on the table, thinking for a long few moments, and then;  
  
_We'll handle that._  
  
\---  
  
The microbots, apparently, have not suffered in the slightest for their long hiatus; in _fact_ , others have tried to use them, control them, but once he is able to re-establish contact with them after so long...for a long while he just _soaks_ in it all, soaks in what may not have been originally his but is now _undeniably_ so, even now, it is like stepping in to an old pair of comfortable shoes, it is like shrugging on a familiar coat, it is a _joy_ to see them sweep around him and it is _power_ to wear them once again.  
  
His mask is still a powerful red, but there are markings of blue, now, accenting the lines. They seem to know enough about his own state of mind, and his own _memory_ of what he took the mask from, to understand that things have changed; they perhaps do not understand why they are taking these lines, but he can't help but laugh a little when he sees it, bitterly or not.  
  
They are a _phantom's_ lines. A spirit's. A ghost's. And maybe he is back from the dead in a way, but for better or for worse, he does not know.  
  
He only knows enough to take the wary glances as they are, but to throw himself in to the battle as though it is the very last one he will ever fight, and with all that's at stake, perhaps that is true - and he can only _laugh_ through it, _cry_ through it, because he knows in his heart whatever happens this will be the last time he ever truly _lives_.  
  
\---  
  
Afterwards, after the terrible weight of the battle that has not left any of them unscathed...afterwards, they use the microbots in the same way Robert once had, and that is to lead them back to their beginning.  
  
There is a _fight_ here, but it is not in Robert's control- the microbots seeming to realize what is at stake, and their own sense of self-preservation seems to come in to play, and even once he yells for the blocker because _he can't control them_ they fight, they then seem to almost _turn_ upon him  
  
but then, together, he and the Six destroy the machines.  
  
Then they only carry him back towards San Fransokyo, and it is a long and quiet trip back. Everyone is tired to the bone, past exhaustion, past what any could ask of any human being- or robot, in Baymax's case.  
  
There comes a point where he's alone with Hiro, and while for a long time there's silence...somehow, the subject leads to Tadashi.  
  
Somehow, he manages to tell him two words that he should have said all-too-long ago.  
  
_I'm sorry._  
  
Hiro doesn't say anything at first, and at first Callaghan wonders if he's said the wrong thing yet again- but in the end, the boy ( _man_ ) only lets out a heavy breath, and says in a strange little voice, _I know_. And the way he says it...  
  
Robert can only stare at him for a few confused moments before understanding dawns - and he manages to look away before embarrassment clouds his features.  
  
_I'm still going to try,_ indeed.  
  
\---  
  
Afterwards, Robert takes no steps to return to prison. For the first time in what seems like decades, no one takes steps to bring him there. The most that happens is that he is taken to a cafe, given a piece of paper and a phone, and allowed to stay there as a cup of coffee turns ice cold before him and he can only stare down at his hand while his other props him up by the chin.  
  
His table in the corner is given a wide berth, but he doesn't notice. He hardly even notices when the waitress stops by to 'check up' on his coffee, and the morning light outside has long faded in to dusk by the time he begins to dial that number and bring the phone up to his ear.  
  
_Hello?_ comes the familiar voice, and his heart stops because what if this is a lost cause, what if she's not ready, what if _he's_ not ready-  
  
The waitress - with grey in her own hair - gives him a meaningful look, and he swallows and finds his voice.  
  
_So I'm on parole,_ he manages to say, somehow able to keep his voice a semblance of steadiness, _and I was wondering if you wanted to maybe spend some time catching up..._


	6. EPILOGUE: The Morning After

It doesn't go quickly, but it _does_ go, and by the end of his first year he's meeting with her regularly.

He has his own place, by now, and is freelancing in some scientific journals under a pseudonym. _Callaghan_ is well-enough known to remove himself from any potential employers' lists, and he considers the sacrifice of his true name a small price to pay. 

Mostly, he writes about safety. As well as pitches regarding ever-present threats still out there, suggestions on how to _deal_ with them and protect those who most need it.

Once or twice, he receives a comment from someone he _suspects_ he knows, but can never confirm it one way or another.

Once or twice one of the Six show up at his doorstep and tell him that he needs to stay with them for a while. He does not protest, and he does not ask why.

But he is not _idle_ , either.

The Six may serve as unofficial parole officers as well as protectors, but they cannot watch _everything_. They see him continuing to speak with a psychologist. They do not see him making his own safeguards, his own protections, both for himself and for his family.

They perhaps see him focusing a bit more on to cybernetics, and they may see him pioneering a device for the disabled, but they do not see him when he meets his grandchild for the first time in _ages_ , and, very subtly, hands them a small box with the murmur of 'keep it safe'.

They do not see the microbots that survived their 'slaughter'.

Robert Callaghan intends to keep it this way, because while he does not yet have enough to reform the mask - and why would he want to? Yokai was a _face_ with no substance, the product of rage and fear and unfocused power that proved to be so useless in the end - he has enough to accomplish what he needs, and while he does not question their _persistence_ , as far as he knows, these are the last _in_ existence.

And perhaps it is better this way, not having a hundred thousand of them at his beck and call but only a handful of them...but considering he has still never come to understood _why_ they yet respond to him...

This time, he will simply use them as they were designed. To help. To build.

And when he is done, with the devices he's _built_ \- mirrors of the one built so long ago - so will his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
